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Ooc: Oooo, the Apocolypse horsies!

Death and War, Famine and Pestilence. The Four Horses of the Apocalypse rein supreme over the darker creatures of the Passant Guard, the banished members who did not agree with the lighter views of The Guard. It is here, in a dark foreboding place not located on any map, the four horses lead the cult, plotting and growing. They organize the older Passants into armies and sort them into ranks, who's main cause is to inflict pain on others, while the younger are taught to lie, cheat, and kill. It's a morbid place, but then again, they're rather morbid Passants. Hearts as black as ink.

Amongst those four apocalypic horses, War paced in one of the rooms, eyes burning angrily. His was a black heart, a firey ball of burning ebony, as black and hot as his coat, with a temper to match. The power of war at his his fingertips, the flaming stallion was amongst the most feared of the dark creatures, along with his fellow apocalyptic horses. Alone they were feirce, but together... well, lets just say pity to those who come across them when they were together.

Even so, War paced, steam billowing from his nostrils as he snorted, his hoofs clapping loudly on the black stone undernieth. He needed pain. He needed suffering. And he wanted it soon. Unfortunately, while he worked well on his own, he did require Death to come along if he wanted anyone to die. Famine and Pestilence would also add to the havoc they could wreak, bring misery and suffering that could combine with his own, something that the Cult Leader have been craving for a while now. He had sent them each messages to meet him, they were bound to show up sometime soon. Unfortunately, this required waiting for them to appear.

War did not like to wait.

The firey stallion froze, turning to face the direction in which the hoof beats were coming, the voice in his head all too familiar to him. Famine. Having his mouth sewn shut, thin stallion spoke through a strong telekinetic power, which he used to his advantage, manipulating minds to make them literally starve themselves. Hense it could only be him who had spoken so clearly in War's mind.

"Patience is a virtue for the feeble minded." War grumbled, pausing in his pacing to look over at his fellow Cult Leader. "One which I dare say I exercise perhaps too much." Narrowing his eyes cynically, more at himself than at Famine, he snorted again, his annoyance clear. "Have you seen Death and Pestilence?"

"I know that Famine. Fire Shard, everyone knows that." The firey beast snapped, his savage nature taking hold of him once again. He wasn't always as such, most of the time he was quite calm, offering his own smart remarks and comments into conversations the horses occationally had. But after going so long without seeing major suffering... it was beginning to wear him thin.

War continued to grumble, glaring at Famine when he mentioned he should relax. Stubborn thing that he was, he continued to pace unnecissarily, every so often glancing over at Famine before shaking his head. The saying "As swift as war" very much applied to the black horse; he liked things done quickly. Whole nations toppled in a moments time. And he was capable of it too. Bringing whole civilizations to their knees.

"I don't suppose you know when they're going to be here?" He questioned, expecting another smart remark from his starving peer.

"This I know."

War sighed heavily, finally stopping in his restless pacing, crimson eyes suddenly calming slightly. "Waiting for the sky to turn to blood has ebbed away my patience. I know what you mean, Famine. Tricks and mind games are all we are able to do anymore." Settling down on the ground a little ways away from the other horse, he sighed again, closing his eyes restfully. "You are right on many accounts. Unfortunately. We are no longer the subject of mortal fear. Or at least, not our physical selves." Shaking out his mane, he looked to the entrance of the cavern, almost wistfully. "I wish it were not so."

Seeming to appear from a slow moving black fog Death rolled in and silently took form next to Famine. "As calm as you may be Famine it is all to noticable that you are just as eager for your name to be greatly feared again as War." Death was obviously the most pleased of the Cult Leaders, people have always feared him no matter what the worlds current status may be. Death calmly walked over to face War and spoke once more in the raspy horrid voice that strikes fear in so many "War, my dear friend, you seem to be jumping out of your skin with anticipation. Obviously a problem I myself would not have." It was a funny thing, Death adored to joke about his morbid appearance while it seemed others shook in fear of it. "But I'm sure you'll be very pleased with this announcement I have to make, our time will be coming soon enough. All those things politics, science, these things meant to stop us from taking over have left the masses overconfident, that shall be their downfall." Death seemed to smile at his own comment, though having the appearance of mere bones it was somewhat hard to notice.

Death chuckled at War's first reactions, he just loved to push War over the edge, when War was angry it always brought out the best outcomes. "Yes War, I know many things, I'm sure Famine is aware subtly of these things as well, if you'd pay more attention to the goings on in the world instead of constantly being quick to anger and throwing random fits of rage then you too would have seen it. The world is becoming corrupt and people are losing trust in one another, there will be much suffering soon which means that you will be able to do what you love most." Death moved slowly over to another corner of the room, stones seemed to age and crumble slowly where he stepped. "And that means that we will all get to have our fun with the masses."